


Home

by gwennolmarie



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Come Marking, M/M, Rough Sex, Tent Sex, just a little rough though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17206307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwennolmarie/pseuds/gwennolmarie
Summary: With another man…With Charles, Arthur doesn’t worry as much about his scars.It’s not a game of diverting attention and avoiding too-curious questions.They ain’t good men.They both know it.





	Home

It wasn’t planned.    
  
Then again, was it really ever planned?   
  
Arthur thinks, that if there are people who plan out their sex life, he doesn’t care to know them.    
  
Not planned doesn’t mean not prepared though.    
  
Arthur shifts his weight on his elbows where he’s got his head buried in the blanket, mouth free to pant quietly, but cherry-red cheeks hidden.    
  
He doesn’t need to hide, he knows that.    
  
Not with Charles.    
  
At first, they’d just been together under the blanket.    
  
That’d progressed to a mountain of tension that neither man could settle into.    
  
Arthur had been the one to break it, silently pushing a leg between Charles’.    
  
Charles’ eyes had flown to his and the look had been white-hot lightning.    
  
“Arthur,” The younger man had said, voice clear and even.    
  
Arthur had ducked his head, slightly, only for Charles to catch his chin and bring their mouths together.   
  
That evolved into Charles getting both of them kneeling.    
  
Then Arthur was face in the blanket, pants around his knees, exposed ass in the air.    
  
Counting his blessings that he’d washed thoroughly just before dusk.    
  
Something cold and thick is slathered over his asshole and he tenses.    
  
The fingers pause.    
  
“You good?” Charles murmurs.   
  
“Y-” Arthur sucks in a breath, feels his face burn hotter, not helped by the itchy wool against his face, “Yeah… Trust ya,”   
  
“Okay,” The younger says easily.    
  
The fingers move.    
  
Arthur sucks in another hard breath, almost chokes on it.    
  
“Hush.”   
  
“Ha,” Arthur gasps as he feels Charles’ other hand grip his hip, “Sure.”    
  
The curl of the younger man’s fingers around his flank is just shy of bruising.    
  
A single finger circles his hole, pressing and tugging lightly at the rim.    
  
Arthur clenches his fingers into wool, drags the two handfuls apart until the fabric is pulled taut against the crown of his head.    
  
It’s a little uncomfortable, when Charles’ finger first breaches, sliding in up to the second knuckle.    
  
Arthur adjusts his weight, shifts his knees a little further apart.    
  
It doesn’t quite brace him for the feeling of Charles’ finger dragging along his inner walls.    
  
He curses.    
  
Charles tightens the grip on Arthur’s hip, only for a second or two.    
  
It’s a silent guidance.    
  
‘Be quiet’, the touch says.    
  
Arthur tries to relax into his elbows, rolls his neck to one side.   
  
Feels Charles’ lips press to his lower back, biting and sucking at the flesh for a moment.    
  
With another man…    
  
With Charles, Arthur doesn’t worry as much about his scars.    
  
It’s not a game of diverting attention and avoiding too-curious questions.    
  
They ain’t good men.    
  
They both know it.    
  
Charles’ fingers curl in a way that has Arthur choking a moan into his shoulder.    
  
“Shit, Charles,” Arthur grumbles, tries to shift his hips into the touch, greed getting the better of him.    
  
He feels the fingers move rougher, deeper and faster.    
  
It’s a tugging, a coaxing with every brush of sensitive flesh inside of him that has his cock dripping onto the blanket.    
  
“Fuck,” Arthur hisses and tries to roll his hips with the pace Charles has set.    
  
In the moment wants the man both inside him and beneath him.    
  
He wraps his hand around himself and moans at the feeling.    
  
Charles’ warmth leaves him for a moment before he’s shoved and flattened on his back.    
  
The younger man hovers over him.    
  
“Put your hands above your head,” Charles says as he situates himself, moving Arthur’s cloth-bound legs to one side of him, ankles over his shoulder.    
  
Arthur hesitates, squirms as a greased hand rubs roughly over his hole.    
  
Charles is staring into his eyes, waiting, far calmer in appearance than Arthur is feeling.    
  
The older man clenches his fingers together and raises his arms over his head.    
  
He can’t see, but he feels when something presses against his asshole.    
  
Knows immediately it’s not fingers when he sees Charles’ other hand retrieving and replacing a little tin.    
  
More of that slick is spread over him. Charles lets out a huff of a breath.    
  
Pushes in.    
  
He’s slow but Arthur can hardly focus on the finer points.    
  
He goes from empty to full.    
  
Full in a way he’d craved but never really known.    
  
“Fuck,” Arthur bites out, stretches his head back and grabs hold of the blanket under his hair.    
  
Charles has one arm around Arthur’s legs at the knees. The other grabs the meat of the outside of his thigh where it meets his hip.    
  
He slides out slow, only to gradually push all the way back in.   
  
Carving a  _ home _ within Arthur.    
  
“Fuck, Darlin’,” Arthur says in a exhale.    
  
“I know,” Charles says softly, squeezes fingers into Arthur’s thighs and starts an even, unrelenting pace.    
  
Arthur has had sex before, where it feels like a game, or a race, it’s fun and fast and has you out of breath chasing the high.    
  
This is slow, but so rewarding in such a different way.    
  
He still feels like he can’t breathe.    
  
Gasps when Charles bottoms out harder and faster on one thrust, relishes in the feeling of Charles' hips against his ass.    
  
The younger man adjusts his legs, moves the grip on Arthur’s thigh to the older man’s dick.    
  
Then he really moves.    
  
Still not hurried, though Arthur faintly sees sweat on the younger’s brow.    
  
He strokes Arthur in time with each thrust.    
  
Arthur curses and cusses and at some point, he thinks he begs.    
  
Charles hushes him, kisses his cloth covered calves and carries them through it.    
  
Doesn’t break pace until Arthur whines for it.    
  
He leans down, stops touching Arthur in order to support his weight.    
  
Practically bends the older man in half.    
  
Then they’re fast.    
  
Rocking together chasing their end.    
  
Charles pulls back and throws Arthur’s legs down, kneels over the older man and strokes his own cock until thick ribbons paint Arthur’s stomach where his shirt was shoved up.    
  
He moans out the older man’s name.    
  
Arthur runs his fingers through the mess, barely has to touch himself before he’s adding to the come pooling in the divets that used to be abs.    
  
Charles helps him clean up.    
  
There’s hardly space between them, that night as they sleep.  

**Author's Note:**

> i'm just seeping into all the pairings, give it time
> 
> tumblr @gwennolmarie


End file.
